Once Upon a Winter

Chapter 1

21st December 2000 (Age-10)

I dusted off the blanket of snowflakes that rested atop my head, hesitantly making my way over to the dark-haired boy that sat at the edge of the sidewalk.

His gaze was focused on the far end of the foggy, incoherent road. "Are you lonely?" My voice was a croak.

He snapped his head towards me, his frown of confusion fading as his eyes roved over my face. Then meeting my brown orbs with his own golden glinted eyes, he mumbled a "No."

He turned his head back to watch the road with anticipation and I felt like my presence was completely forgotten, like the sun shrouded with murky clouds, clouds that came from this boy's gloomy aura. I looked down at the steamy cup of hot chocolate my mother had just made me. Slight snowflakes melting in it. With a determined effort, I tapped the boy's shoulder, only to receive an irritated and impatient glare. "What now?" He asked.

Tipping my head to a side, I shrugged my shoulders, not so nervous as before. Smiling dimly, I held the mug of hot chocolate towards him. "It's cold, if you're going to sit here for a while, you should have something warm."

He studied me with a skeptical glance, before shrugging indifferently. "I don't feel cold." He said, clearly rejecting the offer. But for further clarity, he added, "And I don't like hot chocolate."

Defeated, I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Since we moved into the neighborhood a few days ago, I rarely had any friends and even though I was trying my best, I wasn't achieving anything.

"Alice," I was glad to hear my mother's voice call. "Come inside and help your sister with the work."

I scurried away as fast as I could, feeling the boy's stare penetrate through my back as I fled. Without looking back, I gave my mother a warm smile once I reached our porch steps and strode in to help Dorothy with Christmas decorations.

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"Please take out the trash Alice." My mother instructed, as Dorothy and I lounged on the couch watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas.

With an incomprehensible mumble of objection, I dragged myself out with the black garbage bag. Automatically welcomed by the smack of cold air once the door opened. Wrapping my scarf around my neck more tightly, my steps crunched in the snow as I walked over to the end of the lawn.

I stopped in mid-stride once I saw the same boy, seated at the same spot, his gaze still lingering down the same dark, misty road end. Swallowing the image of being an annoyance, I refused to go humiliate myself once more by trying to be nice.

I dumped the bag into the trash can, the noise not even making him bother averting his attention. Turning, I started to head back when his front door thrust open and an elderly, white-haired women called out in a gentle voice, "Zachary, dear twilight has struck. Come inside before you catch a cold."

Without responding, he got up and turned, his steps marching back to the house and his head bowed, staring at his feet.

Unaware I stood there frozen, watching him as a pang of sympathy throbbed me, his head slightly turned to my direction and our eyes met, once more.

Jerking my head away, I stomped back in the thick snow, my cheeks a warm red from being discovered staring at someone. His gaze stayed on me until he reached his own door front and so did I.

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"Dorothy, do you want to play?" I asked the next morning, as Dorothy was engrossed in girl gossip over the phone with her best friend Tanya-Who she had recently met the day we moved in.